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The Namesake: A Critical Review

"The reader should realize himself that it could not
have happened otherwise and that to give him any other name was quite out of
the question." – Nikolai Gogol, "The Overcoat

My copying of the epigraph is to revere the literary precision that Jhumpa
Lahiri has maintained throughout “The Namesake”. “The Namesake” is a story of
dreams, despairs, diversions and disillusionment. It is the story of a generation
which tries to cling to their traditions in their newly found abode and of a generation
which is trying to free themselves from the same traditions being imposed upon
them. It is the story of the angst of the Bengali immigrants in a foreign land
and the conundrum of ABCD (American Born Conflicted Deshi’s) on being exposed to
two contrasting cultures of East and West.

“But she has gathered that Americans, in spite of their public declarations of
affection, in spite of their miniskirts and bikinis, in spite of their
hand-holding on the street and lying on top of each other on the Cambridge
Common, prefer their privacy.”

The former half of the story revolves around the stark cultural variation that a
middle class Indian subjected to on his/her advent to America. She compares
Orient’s collectivism to western Individualism. Bengali bindings to Boston’s liberty.
Indian Sanctity for relations to American Intimacy.

“She has adopted his surname, but refuses for propriety’s sake to utter his first.”

Lahiri very well captures the anxiety of the Bengali immigrants when they are compelled to live in solitude in a land where they know none and are known to none. The
immaculate portrayal of their helplessness when they are informed about the
deaths of their loved ones, or when they survive through the bigotry of the
society or when they witness their offspring forsaking the beliefs which they, so
firmly, withheld even on a foreign soil, draws a sincere compliment for the keenness
of her observations and eloquence of her writing.

“He knows that this sort of life which is such a proud accomplishment for his own parents, is of no relevance, no interest to her, that she loves him in spite of it."

The latter half explicates identity crisis that the
first generation American borns experience as a result of being subjected to
two different lifestyles: the one they are part of and the other they have
inherited. They live a dual existence: for some they are Indians, for others
American. Lahiri has very subtly attempted to give words to their intricate
emotions: American common sense held together by through fragile laces of Indianess. In some strange way, they are connected
through their parents to a strange culture of which they have never been a part
of and yet they can trace its roots in themselves.

“It is in the midst
of the laughter of these drunken adults, and the cries of their children
running barefoot, chasing fireflies on the lawn, that he remembers that his father
left for Cleveland a week ago, that by now he is there, in a new apartment,
alone. That his mother is alone on Pemberton Road. He knows he should call to
make sure his father has arrived safely, and to find out how his mother is
faring on her own. But such concerns make no sense here among Maxine and her
family.”

As an author, Jhumpa is pedantic for details which, for most times, draw you into
the story but at other instants expel you away as you find it to be slow-paced and unhappening.
But for the greater part of the story you find yourself appreciating her eye
for the intricate details in monotony of daily routine. Her descriptions are
often passive, impersonal and at times blatant, and yet there is something
sublime about it that you can't refrain yourself from appreciating. To conclude
with, “The Namesake” is a perfect concoction of humour, irony and unsentimental
portrayal of sentiments that will entice you and enthrall and will eventually
leave you dissatisfied at a climax where you just don’t wish to emerge out of
the story.

“Remember that you and I made this journey, that we went to a place where there
was no where else to go. “

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About Me

I believe nothing is definitive and thus, I can't really describe how I am. In actuality, how I am to X will certainly differ from how I am to Y. However, due to concurrence of opinion a majority of such X and Ys (my friends) I am forced to believe that I do possess certain traits which is witnessed by most of them. It is indisputable that I am more serious than I should be.
I am dogmatic(they all say and I always disagree, which eventually confirms their acquisition). I am weird and boring(disputable). However everything mentioned can be false as well. It depends on how much you know me..and frankly speaking you never know enough.
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